


In sickness and health and everything in between

by prototyping



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Caretaking, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Prompt Fill, Sickfic, UST, how much ust do I want? all of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:47:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24448324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prototyping/pseuds/prototyping
Summary: When Byleth falls ill in Fhirdiad, Dimitri takes it upon himself to look after her.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 17
Kudos: 260





	In sickness and health and everything in between

**Author's Note:**

> Done for [this wholesome prompt](https://3houseskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/476.html?thread=1077980#cmt1077980) on the FE3H kink meme!

Byleth tensed as she awoke, her body sensing something was amiss before she was conscious enough to process it. She felt hot all over, almost smothered, and shoving the heavy blanket down to her waist did little to alleviate the discomfort. As she blinked her vision into focus, she swallowed and winced at the grating pain it sent down her thick throat.

“Professor?”

The familiar voice made her relax on reflex, even though it was a few moments more before she could make out his face above her. Dimitri looked tired, although that was nothing new. More notably, his expression was a concerned one. He kept his voice low. “How are you feeling?”

Byleth drew in a breath to respond, only to break into a coughing fit when it agitated the cloud of congestion in her chest. She quickly sat up, coughing and hacking into her fist until she could inhale without that uncomfortable flutter in her lungs. She felt Dimitri’s warm hand on her shoulder and shook her head.

“I’m fine,” she croaked, wiping the agitated tears from her eyes. “Just… pretty under the weather.” She raised her head and blinked at the unfamiliar surroundings. “Where are we?”

She didn’t recognize the－enormous－bed she was in, nor the－also enormous－room with its long walls decorated with tapestries and tall windows. Even the unlit fireplace was enormous. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen a bedroom half as large as this one.

Dimitri’s touch withdrew as he straightened up in the chair at her bedside. “Castle Fhirdiad. You fell ill last night. Do you recall?”

Byleth tried, but all that came to mind was the victory celebration, Claude’s messenger... She remembered feeling unusually tired after dinner, but nothing worse than that. When her silence stretched on, Dimitri explained, “You dozed off after our meeting. Mercedes found you had a fever and prescribed immediate rest.”

“A fever,” she muttered. It had been a long time since she’d fallen ill in any way.

“I feel I should apologize,” said Dimitri hesitantly. “There is something of a… well, I wouldn’t call it a wives’ tale－it’s more of a saying in Faerghus, that those from the south are more easily bitten by the kingdom’s chill. Especially this far north.” He frowned. “I fear my waylaying you outside last night may have contributed to your－”

She shook her head, only to immediately regret it when it made her dizzy. “No need for that. It’s true I’m not used to such a cold climate, but you warned us all ahead of time. I could have dressed more warmly.” Or perhaps she would have fallen sick either way. It was impossible to say for sure and she didn’t want him dwelling on it anymore than he already had.

Dimitri, while not appearing wholly convinced, didn’t argue. “At any rate, Mercedes said this should pass quickly, provided you rest and eat as much as you can.”

“What about Derdriu?”

“The arrangements have been settled, but we estimate it will be five days before we’re prepared to move.”

Byleth nodded slowly. That was plenty of time for her to recover, at least well enough that she could travel. “Right. Okay.”

“We’ll be alright,” he assured her with a sympathetic smile, as if reading her thoughts. “You’ve taught us well enough that I daresay we can manage without you for a few days.” When she returned the smile, he asked more seriously, “Do you need anything? Do you think you can eat yet?”

The very mention of food made her stomach twist queasily. She made a face. “Maybe later. Some water would be fine for now.”

While he moved away to pour her a cup from the pitcher he’d already brought in, Byleth pushed her pillows against the ornate headboard to recline against them. She took a longer look at the room around her, this time noticing the packed bookshelves along the opposite wall, the large wardrobe, the wooden cabinet displaying what appeared to be some very fine swords.

As Dimitri handed her the cup, she asked curiously, “This is a guest room?”

“Ah…” He glanced around distractedly as he sat down again. “This is actually my room－my former room,” he corrected as an afterthought. “I figure I’ll move to the king’s suite across the hall, eventually.”

“You mean you haven’t yet?”

His smile didn’t look quite as sincere this time. “No. Not yet.” He glanced away again, pausing before looking at her uncertainly. “I hope you don’t mind. I thought it would be best to have you nearby in case you need anything, but if you would prefer a different room, I’ll gladly－”

Again she shook her head, more carefully this time. “It’s fine, Dimitri. I appreciate it.” The cool water felt wonderful on her throat, even if swallowing still made her flinch. After downing half of it, she leaned back into her pillows and closed her eyes with a low, tired sigh. “I don’t feel great, but I’ll be okay. Don’t let me hold you up.”

“It’s alright. If there’s anything I can do, Professor, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

Byleth gave a quiet chuckle. “Do you really have time to be looking after me?”

“I’ll make time.” Even without looking at him, she could tell by his voice that his face would be a serious, certain one, just like she knew he meant every word.

As much as she wanted to reach out and touch his arm, she refrained, wary of passing whatever Faerghus bug had bitten her so. Instead she gave him what she hoped was a meaningful look. “Don’t overdo it.” She didn’t think he’d actually neglect his duties, but she didn’t want him running himself ragged trying to tend to her, either. 

That prompted a half-smile. “I think we both know I’ll be overdoing myself for a while. The least I can do is make certain you’re taken care of.” He glanced down at the bed, towards her hand, as if entertaining the same thought she had. Slowly, his expression faded to one more serious. “Considering you’ve always been there for me, I… No, this is no obligation. I could never begin to repay all that you’ve done for me.” He gave in and touched her wrist lightly, the gesture as gentle as his voice. “I am only doing what any friend would do. What you would do for me.”

That was a better answer, even if it still made Byleth wary that he would exhaust himself before the week was up. For now, however, she was tired, and she was sure there was no dissuading him from fretting over her at the moment.

“Thanks, Dimitri. I think I’ll sleep for a while and see how I feel then.”

He looked pleased by her agreement. “Think nothing of it, Professor.”

* * *

He did, of course, keep to his word. Byleth spent most of the next couple days sleeping, interrupted only occasionally by Mercedes gently rousing her to soothe her aches with magic or talk her into getting some food down. The rest of the time she would usually wake to an empty room during the day, but Dimitri would visit as often as he could and made a point of spending his evenings in her room.

As they’d discussed previously, he had a mountain of political and economical work waiting for him on top of the battle and travel plans being made for the march to Derdriu. More than once Byleth woke to find him hunched over the nearby desk with stacks of parchment and a quill that moved nonstop, working late into the night by candlelight.

He took breaks by sitting at her bedside. Given her sore throat he did most of the talking, at times updating her on the kingdom’s progress and at others simply _talking_ , casually, about anything that came to mind. It felt familiar, more like the afternoons they used to spend over tea or training together during their academy days, and Byleth found that familiarity to be just as soothing as any white magic. As sick as she felt now, she knew Dimitri’s affliction was so much worse－a sickness in his heart that still showed more often than not, in his wistful glances when he spoke of Fhirdiad or his people, in the way he still tensed when Edelgard’s name was spoken, in how he jolted upright and onto his feet one night after drifting off in his chair.

He was still hurting, but tending to Byleth seemed to bring him some genuine happiness and she liked to think it helped him hurt a little less. She knew he only did so out of the goodness of his heart－he was too selfless to simply be using her as a distraction－and she quickly stopped trying to talk him out of it.

When Dimitri said he hadn’t taken his father’s quarters yet, she assumed that to mean he was occupying a guest room, since he’d given Byleth his. Instead, she found him sleeping on the bedroom couch one morning. She couldn’t tell if he stayed in the room for her sake, or this was part of whatever kept him from occupying the king’s suite just yet, but she chose not to bring it up.

He also ate his meals in the room with her, and before long she was able to eat a little of something at each mealtime. Even if nothing sounded appetizing to her yet, it was a means of making sure he didn’t skip any meals himself, and to that end she could force herself to swallow some soup or fruit.

On the third night, Dedue brought them a broth he had cooked himself. Byleth was feeling well enough to get up out of bed for longer periods of time, so she and Dimitri were dining at the tea table in the bedroom corner. Her voice was clearer and her chills weren’t as bad, but she still had a thick robe wrapped tight around her shoulders.

After Dedue left, she wondered, “Is he helping in the kitchen now?”

“Everyone is,” Dimitri replied. “I told the castle staff to take some time off. The servants in particular were treated poorly under Cornelia’s reign, so I thought they could use this time to recuperate.”

Ah. That would explain why she’d only seen her former students since becoming bedridden－and why Mercedes had been so cheerfully intent on changing the bedsheets, and Annette had offered to help Byleth wash.

“That was nice of you,” she observed. Dimitri didn’t meet her eyes.

“It was the least I could do.”

Sensing his guilt complex nearing the surface, Byleth added, “They seemed happy to have you back on the night of the feast, anyway.”

“Ah… well, I’m certain anyone is preferable to Cornelia,” he reasoned. He smiled sheepishly as she chuckled, but then he seemed to fidget in his seat slightly. “Actually, if I’m being honest… Perhaps this sounds ridiculous coming from a prince, but－it’s been a very long time since someone waited on me hand and foot. The idea of simply returning and expecting to be treated in such a manner…” He frowned down at the tabletop. “It doesn’t… sit right with me.”

“That’s not ridiculous,” said Byleth softly. She didn’t expand on her reason for thinking so, but she didn’t need to: the gratitude in Dimitri’s face was obvious, as was the relief in the way his shoulders relaxed.

* * *

On the eve of the army’s departure, Byleth stirred to the pleasant surprise of finding her throat pain-free. Her head still felt thick and her nose was still raw, but she was neither freezing nor threatening to suffocate under the layers of blankets. She closed her eyes again with a small, grateful sigh. Maybe the first leg of the trip wouldn’t be so miserable after all.

She sat up and realized Dimitri was in his chair at her side as usual, but slumped over against the bed with his head on his arms, snoring quietly. She couldn’t help pausing to study his face: the crease in his brow couldn’t be called peaceful, but there was something unguarded and vulnerable in his relaxed expression that she wasn’t used to seeing these days. Even around her, when he spoke freely and happily, she thought there was something in his posture that hadn’t always been there back when he was her student－something constantly wary and uneasy, even if he didn’t seem to realize it.

Slowly, Byleth reached out and lightly placed her hand on his head. When he didn’t stir, she brushed a couple stray locks back from his forehead with her thumb, and then gently stroked his hair. It occurred to her that she hadn’t touched him like this before; their friendly gestures had been limited to fleeting, casual touches－a squeeze of his shoulder, a comforting hand on her back－at least up until he’d taken her hand on that rainy evening weeks ago, and held onto it for nearly the whole night as they camped.

But something like this… It was new, and not something Byleth would do with just anyone, she realized. It felt natural, somehow, and his warmth against her fingers was comforting.

She kept petting his hair as her thoughts wandered. Regardless of how she felt in the morning, she would set out with the rest of them. She preferred to walk, but if worst came to worst, she could always ride to conserve her energy; maybe that was best until they moved into warmer territory, anyway.

After a few minutes, Byleth looked at Dimitri again. His blind eye was the one facing her, but she’d caught the change in his breathing. “How long have you been awake?”

He tensed, and then slowly sat up as he cleared his throat. “Not long. I didn’t want to interrupt you.” She chuckled. Of course he would say something like that. “How－” He cleared his throat again, although this time it was more like a cough. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better. Still not great, but leaving tomorrow won’t be a problem.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” The remark was a casual one, but his smile said just how happy the news made him.

“What about you?” she asked.

“I’m sorry?”

Byleth reached up to graze her knuckles against his forehead. “You feel pretty warm.” Her lips twisted. “I hope you didn’t get sick from me.”

Dimitri wrapped his fingers around her wrist－carefully, as though handling something delicate－and lowered her hand with another smile. A strange buzz went through her arm at every point their skins met. “Don’t worry about me, Professor. The people of Faerghus are known for being rather hardy when it comes to catching ill.”

* * *

Seven hours into their southward march, Dimitri collapsed.

Byleth narrowly saved him from falling off his horse, but the company halted as a momentary panic swept among the people around them. It took nearly a minute to wake him, another five for medics to be found and assess him, and another ten before Gilbert and several others could be convinced that Dimitri was alright to continue traveling. As a precaution, Byleth handed her steed off to Mercedes, who rode beside them just in case, while she mounted Dimitri’s horse to take the reins.

“ ‘Hardy,’ huh,” she remarked in a low voice, after the company started moving again.

He breathed a self-conscious chuckle against her hair as he reached around her, gripping the saddle’s horn for balance. “Not as hardy as you, it seems.”

She gave his knee a sympathetic pat. “I wasn’t on the road at the time. I’d probably have passed out, too.”

Dimitri only hummed in reply. His face was flushed with fever and his voice already sounded off. Byleth could only wince at the thought of how miserable he would be by morning.

He retired that night without eating anything. By the time Byleth stopped by his tent to check on him, he was already asleep, so she just spread out her blankets on the opposite side to lie down and get comfortable, ready to help in whatever way she could.

Predictably, he was worse the next day. There was talk of delaying the march to let him recover, but he naturally refused, and the debate went back and forth for nearly half an hour. In the end, Gilbert caved only under the agreement that Byleth would continue to ride with Dimitri, and in the middle of the company rather than at the front, with the prince’s usual entourage doubled in number, just in case.

“It’s a fever, not a lethal injury,” Dimitri muttered at a volume only Byleth could hear.

“Better safe than sorry,” she reasoned patiently, and that put an end to his grumbling.

He didn’t complain once as they rode, but as the day went on she could tell he was declining. Where he’d once sat up straight, he now leaned against her, even resting his head against hers when the exhaustion was too much. One hand was all he’d needed for balance before, but now the other grasped her hip, and more than once his fingers dug in hard enough to bruise when his control over his strength slipped. Byleth didn’t say a word, except to nudge him every so often into taking a drink from his canteen.

He went straight into his tent that night and this time she followed closely, as did Dedue. Despite the uncomfortable strain in Dimitri’s face, he appeased his friend by agreeing to try and eat something and Dedue left without another word. Byleth noted how sluggish Dimitri’s movements were as he let his mantle fall to the ground, and she quickly moved to steady him when he wavered on his feet.

“Easy,” she urged. “Sit down. I’ll help.”

He probably didn’t have the strength left to object. He all but dropped to the ground and Byleth eased off his gloves, and then removed the plates of his armor. His undershirt was drenched in sweat and she helped him strip out of that, as well. It was still a cold night, so she draped a fur blanket around his shoulders before fetching his canteen again.

“Dimitri,” she began as he gulped the water down, “you’re probably at the worst of it now. Maybe it’s best to wait a day－”

“No.” His objection wasn’t harsh, but quiet, almost pleading. “Every day counts.”

She couldn’t argue that, but neither could she say she was comfortable with making him press on like this. Almost without thinking, she cupped his face in one hand to wipe at the water that dribbled down his chin. His skin was burning. “You’re not getting enough rest. The longer you push yourself, the longer you’ll take to recover.”

He winced. He saw the logic there, but his mind was at odds with his heart.

With a quiet sigh, Byleth let her hand fall away from him. “Just focus on resting up tonight, okay? We’ll talk in the morning.” Dimitri nodded, still looking troubled.

When Dedue returned, Dimitri managed to eat more than Byleth would have expected. He lay down after that and was out almost immediately, and for a long moment she and Dedue sat in the tent in silence, listening to their friend’s labored breathing.

At length, Dedue finally spoke. “Professor. I am sure I do not need to tell you this, but he will push himself beyond his limits if given the opportunity.”

She nodded, frowning. “I know.”

* * *

Dimitri awoke in a fog, the echoes of a half-forgotten nightmare still ringing in his ears. He ached in more places than he could count and it was all he could do not to snarl in frustration at his own weakness.

“Hey.” A cool hand touched his shoulder and only then did he realize he’d been tossing and turning in his blankets. He squinted up at a shadow that resembled Byleth, his good eye struggling to adjust to the dim light of the tent.

“Professor.” His voice came out thin. Even he could barely hear it.

“Take it easy. It’s still early.” Her voice was as soothing as the hand that swept his damp hair from his face. Obeying seemed like the only logical thing to do to his half-conscious mind, so Dimitri relaxed and let his senses gradually fade back into focus. For a long moment the two of them stayed like that, her hand against his forehead as he listened to the distant sounds of the camp and took stock of his body’s condition.

Finally, he inquired in a stronger voice, “Did you speak with Gilbert?”

“Yes.”

That seemed like an oddly short answer. He turned his head to look at her directly. “And?”

Byleth met his gaze steadily. “We decided to split the company into two groups. The larger went ahead and we’ll follow once you’re fit to travel.”

He sat upright so quickly that he nearly headbutted her. “What? But－”

“They left yesterday,” she said coolly. “You weren’t in the right state of mind to be consulted, so I made the decision.”

“Yesterday?” he echoed, puzzled. “We only stopped here last night.”

“That was two nights ago, Dimitri. You’ve barely been awake since then.”

He stared at her. Byleth didn’t flinch.

He didn’t think she was lying, but it was hard to believe all the same. He ran a hand down his face. “Two nights…”

“Whenever you did wake up, you were delirious. I’m not surprised if you don’t remember any of it.”

“I don’t,” Dimitri admitted. After turning that over for a few beats, he looked at her again. “You didn’t think it best for you to lead the other party?”

Her gaze faltered. “...No. Gilbert thinks there’s another way we can take since this group is smaller, and that should help us catch up faster. And… if something happened, I’d rather be near you.”

Perhaps it was just the fever and the fatigue, but that last remark didn’t make as much sense to him as it probably should have. A throbbing in his temples kept him from overthinking it. “Very well,” he sighed. “But I do feel better than before. I’m confident I’ll be fine traveling today.” A hint of authority snuck into his tone without him meaning for it to. It was fine that she’d taken charge while he was incapacitated, but the army was under his command first and foremost and he’d wasted enough of what little time they had.

He was glad when she didn’t argue.

* * *

Today’s march was easier on him than the last. He rode with Byleth again, but this time he was lucid enough to keep up a conversation to try and distract himself from his discomforts. He was no less exhausted when he retreated to his tent that night, and as Byleth followed and laid out her blankets in the same space as his, something occurred to him.

“Did you stay with me the last two nights, as well?”

She nodded. “You did the same for me. Besides… it’s my fault you’re sick to begin with. It’s the least I can do.”

“No, I would say I had it coming, in all honesty. I pushed myself farther than was probably wise while we were in Fhirdiad. It was only a matter of time until I caught something or another.” Those late nights were probably to blame for his sleeping a whole day away.

She didn’t answer, but he caught a glimpse of a smile in response to his attempts at comfort.

They talked over a quick meal and then retired for the night. As usual, Dimitri fell asleep almost immediately－but whereas lately his fever had clouded most of his nightly dreams, tonight they were clear again. Tonight he felt the familiar heat of unquenchable flames and heard the screams he had long since memorized. He saw the same bloody faces and his father’s headless corpse and his own hands stained red with the lives he failed to save－

Dimitri bolted upright with a strangled cry, his confusion twisting into cold panic when only darkness greeted his sight－but then there was that hand on his arm again. A hand small and warm and gentle, rather than cold and dead and grasping.

“Dimitri?” Her voice chased the specters away like a hand fanning at smoke. Suddenly a small flame appeared as she lit a candle, casting enough light through the tent for Dimitri to see the worry in Byleth’s face.

He realized he was shaking and panting. He set his jaw and closed his eyes, collecting himself. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled at last.

_For waking you._

_That you had to see me like that._

When he looked at her again, her expression was an incredulous one. She pressed her palm to his forehead. “Are you okay?”

He fumbled a nod. “Just a dream. I’m alright.”

Byleth’s hand moved lower, touching his cheek and then his neck, the sweat on his skin making her fingers stick. She seemed to hover a moment over his pounding pulse, and then finally pulled away.

“You were talking in your sleep,” she said quietly. Dimitri looked away. He didn’t want to know what she’d heard. Instead of pushing, she only ran a hand down his back. “You’re burning up.” A pause. “Do you think you can wash up right now? It might get your temperature down.”

That sounded good. He nodded again, and she left the tent for a few minutes to return with a bucket of water. She sat down beside him and reached for him, only to hesitate when she noticed his stare.

“Should I get Dedue?” she asked, and Dimitri realized she intended to clean him up herself.

“No,” he said quickly. “Don’t wake him. I can…” Even as he reached for the rag, his hands shook. Byleth took them between her own and steadied them. She didn’t speak, but he read the look in her eyes as easily as though she had.

When she reached for him again, he let her do so unobstructed.

He watched her small hands unbutton his shirt—one by one, slowly, a deft flick of her thin wrist parting the front a little more after each one, gradually exposing more of his skin to her gaze.

He felt her breath on his neck when she leaned forward to slip his shirt off his shoulders, light and warm. He noticed her thigh pressing against his as she shifted to her knees to reach behind him.

He noted the way her eyes flickered over his chest without comment or expression and he wondered what she thought of the scars mapping his skin—if she had seen worse, or if she was hiding her revulsion.

He watched her soak and wring out the rag and he felt his heart hammer against his ribs when she reached for him.

Byleth started with his face, wiping lightly across his forehead, down his nose and cheeks—caressing rather than scrubbing, her fingertips working the cool rag tenderly against his skin.

She was unbelievably gentle. Much more than he had been with himself recently, more than he had ever expected to be handled by anyone—

_Much more than you deserve—_

His chest tightened at the same time that she paused.

“Dimitri?”

He nodded. What was supposed to be _I’m fine_ instead came out as a soft, “Don’t stop. Please.”

She studied him for a moment, and then indicated his blind eye. “May I?” He nodded again and her free hand slipped up into his hair, cupping the back of his head and making his breath catch. She wiped daintily over his eyelid, and then the side of his nose.

Her ministrations moved down his neck, and then along each arm from his shoulders down to his fingertips. Each movement was careful, focused, as though she were intent on leaving no inch of skin untreated.

He bit his tongue as she wiped slowly over his chest. Her touch had gone from feeling nice to feeling _good_ and as she passed over his nipple he had to swallow a groan as well as guilt. Hopefully she assumed they were hard to start with.

When she moved behind him, he nearly sighed in relief. It was a little easier to suppress his thoughts when he wasn’t looking straight at her.

“You’re tense,” Byleth noted as she worked across his shoulders. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

He didn’t want to talk about his nightmares—not yet, and certainly not while he was having difficulty thinking straight－and he didn’t want to acknowledge the likely possibility that Byleth was the reason for his tension. “Yes. I’m just…” He trailed off for a moment, and then finished simply, “You’re helping.”

Byleth hummed as she followed the dip of his spine and Dimitri shivered before he could stop it.

It had been easier pushing his feelings aside when he was taking care of her. His anxiety over her health had taken precedence the entire time and for those few days he was simply a concerned friend, with no reason to feel any more awkward around her than usual.

Now, half-awake and exhausted and feverish, being tended to on a level that felt undeserved and almost _reverent_ , his thoughts ran where they wanted like they once did in simpler days—thoughts of unabashed admiration and impossible what-ifs and the sort of warm attachment he’d once thought himself distanced beyond ever feeling again.

He had changed in many ways over the span of five years, but in others he was exactly the same.

Byleth cleaned his sides, the back of his neck, and when her touch retreated he was certain she was done—so he was startled when her bare fingers began kneading the skin between his shoulder blades.

“Is this too hard?” she asked.

“No,” he managed. “It’s－right. Just right.”

Her palms pressed against his back while her thumbs massaged circles in the center, where his muscles felt tightest.

It felt _wonderful_.

Closing his eyes, he was able to focus only on her touch and forget the aches and pains. He had to make a conscious effort not to lean into her.

“There you go,” she murmured. “Relax, just like that. Good, Dimitri.”

The gentle praise made his skin buzz with a heat that had nothing to do with his fever. Embarrassed, he tried to redirect his thoughts to anything other than her low, silky voice—only to realize that he’d slipped and was groaning low in his chest in time with her movements.

He straightened up and turned halfway towards her, but not enough to look her in the eye. “I’m—I’m sorry,” he stammered, since apologizing seemed like the only right thing to do. “I didn’t mean to—that wasn’t…”

Byleth’s smile was a puzzled one. “It’s… okay? I’m glad you like it that much.” Dimitri looked away, flustered all the same, and she began untangling his mess of blankets. “How about you have some water and lie down? I’ll rub your back some more if you think it’ll help you sleep.” Catching the uncertainty in his expression, she added, “It’s not any trouble. I want to help.”

He didn’t need much more convincing. Byleth sat on her knees, set a rolled up blanket in her lap as a pillow, and all but pulled him down against her when he hesitated. Again he stiffened, again she worked the tension out of him over the next few minutes, until he was drowsy with fatigue and the euphoria of her attentive touches. He struggled to stay awake and enjoy it a little longer, but when she moved one hand to his head to run her fingers through his hair, the last of his resistance caved and all sensations, good and bad, faded from thought.

* * *

“You look better today.” Byleth sounded pleased as she studied his face. “How do you feel?”

For the first time in a few days, Dimitri wasn’t forcing a smile through his discomfort. “Much better, thanks to you,” he replied as he finished clasping his mantle into place. “I think we can afford to move at a faster pace today.”

“Don’t push it,” she warned, but there was a hint of teasing there. “We’ll see how you do.”

“Fair enough.”

She resumed saddling her horse and Dimitri watched her, searching for a hint of anything unusual in her posture or expression. She noticed and cocked an eyebrow. “Dimitri?”

“Forgive me, I was just... wondering if…” He regretted those words as soon as he said them, knowing full well he wouldn’t be able to complete the thought. Byleth wasn’t the type to regret her decisions and he doubted she had any reservations about last night; she had probably put it out of her mind already, rather than lingering on it as he was doing. He wasn’t necessarily embarrassed at this point, but simply moving on from it didn’t feel right. He felt obligated to say _something._

“Rather, I want to thank you for last night—for your…”

_Assistance_ sounded too arrogant. _Help_ was too detached.

“For being there,” he amended.

_For_ always _being there._

For a moment that quiet remark hung in the air between them, and then he went on, “Debilitated or not, I put you in an odd position—”

“Don’t,” she interrupted. Her tone was firm, but not harsh. “Don’t apologize. That’s what you’re about to do, isn’t it?” Dimitri’s silence spoke for him. She shook her head with a warm smile. “You do too much of that. Just leave it at ‘thank you.’ That’s plenty.”

He wasn’t sure if it was her smile or her bold familiarity that made his heart skip a beat. He returned the expression without even thinking, if a bit self-consciously. “Indeed. Let’s leave it at that.”

They did so, and as they made their way across the campsite Byleth asked, “Think you can manage riding on your own today?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

“Good. But I’ll keep close in case you feel like falling again.”

Dimitri chuckled with another word of thanks, and didn’t voice the thought that he’d already fallen long before now.


End file.
